


Don't You Cry No More

by Le_Gwenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is dying, Dead Castiel, Dean Sings, Dying!Sam, End of Days, I Made Myself Cry, I just read Alone On The Water so I'm in a very sad mood okay, Sam is dying, Some of it is based on text posts, Suicide, Why Did I Write This?, blame tumblr, dean is dying, dying in arms, everyone dies, im so so sorry, im sorry, still i recommend it, very sad dean tho, well alot of it is, wing burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Gwenn/pseuds/Le_Gwenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the end of days.</p><p>They messed up.</p><p>Dean could barely drive, with the searing pain shooting out of the burns on his chest all over his body, and Sam was barely conscious in the passenger seat. They were covered in blood and dirt, some of it the enemy's, some their own.</p><p>And deep down Dean knew there was no way they would reach the hospital in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Cry No More

They never knew what even hit them.

Dean got a call from a fellow hunter, needing help with a hunt upstate. The Winchesters had nothing better to do so why not? ridding the world from another monster never hurt.

Thats what they thought.

It wasn't a hunt.

It was an ambush.

Rebel angels had grouped up to take down the Winchesters, knowing what they were capable of, wanting to destroy the threat before the next strike. Of course the Winchesters fought hard and blood was spilled; but they were out numbered 1 to 5, it wasn't looking up. Bonus that they were split up before they could do any real damage, and the brothers had no clue if the other was even alive, but they kept fighting.

Cas showed up just in time to save Dean. And just over Cas' shoulder Dean could see a young blonde woman charge him, angel blade held low. Everything slowed almost to a stop as Dean watched it unfold in slow motion. 

Dean yelled as the blade made it though Cas' shirt, blue grace illuminating the room in a flash before fading leaving a large red stain on the white shirt. Cas fell to the ground with a thump, he looked at Dean with those piercing blue eyes, a droplet of blood coming from his mouth and leaving a trail as it ran down his cheek. Cas wasn't dead just yet. Dean charged the angel who stood awestruck, not quite believing she had stabbed the one and only Castiel. But her time of glory was brief as Dean's angel blade struck her chest, grace glowing out of her body in a blinding light as her body hit the floor, dark silhouettes of angel wings burned into the ground.

Dean fell to his knees next to Castiel's shaking body, cradling Cas in his lap to try and make him comfortable in his last moments. Castiel smiled. He knew he would die, the fact was though that he would die protecting the Winchesters, protecting the people he loved, his _family._

"You're gonna be fine Cas..." Dean said, of course he knew Cas would die in his arms. They both knew. Cas' usual shimmering sky blue eyes were fading to a pale and almost dead grey and his eyelids dropped. His face was white and the last bits of life he even had left flowed out of him along with the blood and grace slowly forming a puddle around him, covering dean as well. 

The small smile on the angel's face faded and his eyes flew back open in realization. With the last petty amount of energy he had left Cas tried to push himself out of Dean's lap, but Dean held on tighter.

"I'm not going to leave you, not again, _not ever again_." Dean's voice cracked as he watched a tear roll down his friends face. His cheeks were wet with tears as well, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Cas.

" _Dean. **No**_ " Cas whimpered out, he stopped trying to struggle out of Dean's grasp and looked into his eyes. Cas had given up, He had lost his battle.

" _Its okay. It will all be okay..._ " Dean's voice faded away as Castiel's eyes fell to a close, a last tear slipping out as his arms fell limp. Jimmy Novak's human heart slowed to a stop and Dean closed his eyes as grace flashed the room.

What Dean wasn't expecting was the _pain_.

The sudden _searing_ over his chest and shoulder accompanied by the strong smell of _cooked flesh_.

Dean screamed. And he screamed _loud_.

His vision fogged in the pain and stayed like that, he wasn't quite unconscious and kept the horrible feeling of unbearable pain crawling from his chest and around the entirety of his body. Dean squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to stop the dizziness and feeling of torture erupting throughout his body. He laid on the ground letting out a loud pained groan as the pain faded slightly, it was still extremely painful but just bearable enough to open his eyes and look at the black inflamed burns on his chest. His multiple layers of clothes burnt straight through like they were nothing, leaving a charcoal wing on his body. Dean broke down in the thought of it all. Cas was _dead_ , his dying act to push Dean away from him and to a safe distance to make sure the wings that burn around a dead angel's body didn't burn into Dean instead; But Dean didn't let him. Dean didn't want him to die without someone by his side. Cas knew about the pain Dean would face, and the aching he would forever feel knowing the wing branded onto his body was once his friend's. 

 Dean cried.

He cried and he didn't care who saw him. The bodies of the fallen angels surrounded him, a dark haired trenchcoated man laid on the floor beside them. The very deepest bottom of the hunter's soul ached with the things he would never share with the angel again, the entirety of his body that wasn't charred and bloodied ached. Just... everything _ached._

He didn't want to leave him.

Dean wanted to lay in that room on that concrete floor next to his fallen ally. Dean said he wouldn't leave Cas, not ever again. And he didn't want to. But something stuck in his mind that made him collect as much energy as he could to sit up. That reason being the silence that filled the warehouse. No fighting echoing through the walls, no thumps of feet searching for survivors to finish off. Dean's rapidly beating heart sank at the idea of him being alone, being the last one alive and the only one to walk out of the warehouse.

Dean tried to get to his feet, but failed miserably as pain shot through his body and he fell to his knees with a moan. He sat on his knees recollecting his energy again and spitting out blood in the process before hoisting himself back up and to his feet. Dean lost his balance and fell to the side, but caught himself and stumbled towards the door leading to a hallway where the brothers were separated in the first place. With a large burst of determination Dean shambled over to the door awkwardly, leaning on the cold metal frame for a quick rest. He pushed off the door frame and down the hall, keeping an arm on the wall for balance. 

"Sam?" He croaked softly, his voice getting caught in the bits of blood still in his throat. A soft and almost inaudible groan came from the door closest to Dean.

Dean pushed off the wall and to the closed door that seemed closest to the groan. He tried the door knob but it was like to door was blocked by something. Dean only had one thought in his head. He had to _save Sam._ Without even thinking of it Dean threw himself into the door, busting in and pushing a dead vessel's body away with the door with a great deal of pain flowing through his body all at once.

The room Dean was in now was about as, if not more, covered in blood and bodies as the room he and Cas battled in. With a quick glance Dean quickly spotted his brother slumped against a wall from the dead angels in the room. Dean stumbled over to Sam's body, heart racing, he fell to his knees hoping Sam was even still alive. Dean could see the faint movement of the hair covering Sam's face move as he breathed, along with an assuring slow and small rise and fall of his chest.

Saying Sam was in a very bad way was an understatement, just by looking at him from this angle Dean could spot two different stab wounds along with the cuts and bruises that littered both of their bodies.

Sam's head just slightly lifted up, his hair still covering half of his face.

"Dean?" He whispered, his voice also hoarse from the yelling and blood clotting his airways.

"I'm here Sammy, I'm here." Dean said, lifting Sam's arm over his shoulder in attempt to hoist Sam up to his feet. The attempt was successful with lots of stumbling and the brothers almost toppling each other over. They carried each other back to the impala without sharing a word, Dean set Sam in the passenger seat and he crawled into the familiar driver's seat. The pain hadn't of subsided of course, and he was most likely going to sloppily speed to the nearest hospital. The biggest problem in that plan was that the nearest hospital that could possibly save them was miles away. Sam was slipping in and out of consciousness next to him and the pistol that sat in Dean's lap seemed to set heavier and heavier as he drove. He kept telling himself they would make it, that the doctors were just around the corner to fix Sam up and they would be fine. Deep down Dean knew they wouldn't make it. He knew that the only buildings in the area were warehouses accompanied by railroads and fields. There was no where to go. 

A tear slipped out as Dean looked at Sam. His head was limp on his shoulder. Sam had a large cut on his cheek with dried blood forming around it. bruises dotted his forehead and his nose was broken, the spots on his face that weren't black and blue were swollen and pale. Dean completely ignored all of the blood spilling from both of their bodies ruining the leather seats of the Impala. But there was one thing he knew for sure, Sam wouldn't make it, And he wasn't very far behind.

Sam's eyes flickered half open, and brown met green. With that short lived moment of eye contact between the brothers Dean could tell Sam knew exactly what would happen to him; how he was going to die, and how it would kill his brother that Dean couldn't do anything to help him. Sam didn't want to leave Dean alone, he didn't have to ask how he got black feathers burned into his chest, he knew there would only be one reason why Dean would be so close to a dying angel. Sam was silently mourning Cas as well, Sam's physical pain towered down over the aching pain of loss he felt over the dark haired angel, and he was happy Castiel didn't die alone.

Everything was just a big mix of emotions at that moment in time, sadness and fear being the two that ruled out the others.

Dean pulled over at a field and crawled out. His pistol was tucked into his belt loop as he opened Sam's door. The Winchesters made their way into a field of tall grass and multicolored wildflowers that reached halfway to their knees, it was next to a railroad and was actually very beautiful. The sun was on its way to the horizon and the daylight was slowly fading away, illuminating the field in a golden glow. It was a great place to die in Dean's mind. So much better than the cold white walls of a hospital. 

Dean collapsed into the grass. He was sitting in an uncomfortable position and Sam put his weight on Dean, they both sat there and watched the sky go from a fading blue to oranges and pinks, darker and darker. The sun was almost completely hidden as Sam slipped off of Dean's shoulder and into his lap. Dean's tears fell over his brother, this was it. Dean didn't even know what to say or do. His brother was dying in his lap, what is anyone supposed to do?

Dean lifted a shaking arm and smoothed down Sam's damp hair, it was a dying effort to comfort Sam the best he could. There was only one thing Dean could possibly think of doing, the only thing running through his head was his mother's voice. The lullaby that she would sing to him after he awoke from a nightmare. Dean knew his voice was going to sound horrible, the raspiness of his voice after their encounter was like gravel was shoved down his throat and wouldn't come out. But he sang anyways.

" _Carry on my wayward son...._ " Dean locked eyes with Sam. The eyes that were once filled with that sparkle of hope and happiness.

" _There'll be peace when your are done..._ " Sam's eyes were starting to close, all of the life that was left in him was dried up, and faded away.

" _Lie your weary head to rest...._ _don't your cry no more..._ " Dean finished the first verse of the song. Sam had only mere moments left.

" _Bitch..._ " Dean whispered as his voice cracked. A smile rose on Sam's pale face.

"Jerk." Sam replied using the very last of his energy, his body falling limp in Dean's lap. Dean wrapped himself around Sam's body rocking back and forth, not caring about the pain that was rocketing through his body every time he moved. He just didn't care. Dean pulled the pistol out of his belt loop.

~

A warehouse worker closed the door, locking up for the night. The man started off to the only car left in the gravel lot, taking his keys out of his back pocket. The sun had just set not that long ago and it was almost completely dark out. The man reached out to grab the door handle when he was interrupted by a loud crack from the field across the road. He quickly looked from where the noise came from with wide eyes, first noticing the beautiful black car parked on the side of the road. After the loud noise was silence, and the man was contemplating getting in his car and driving off as fast as he could. Deep down the man knew someone could need his help, he also knew the loud crack as a gunshot, but the human curiosity swept over him and he crossed the street anyways. The man jogged into the field, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and immediately dialing 911.

Two men laid in the grass and flowers. One bloody and stabbed, a smile on his face. The other burnt and with a pistol in hand.

Both laid dead in puddles of crimson.


End file.
